


Equilibrium

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Ace!Fitz, F/F, F/F/M, F/M, Fluff, Important Talks, Polyamory, though that's not explicit but it was the prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11160264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: (Ace) Fitz doesn't like sex, but that doesn't mean he has to get left out of the relationship. An important talk, and lots of fluff, on a weekend in New York City.





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AchillesMonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AchillesMonkey/gifts).



> for a tumblr prompt: "One of your OT3 being asexual and the other two accepting that fact without leaving them out of the relationship romantically." The actual ace identity is not stated here because it didn't come up organically (and I'm not sure if Fitz would have had a label for it anyway) but the sentiment is strong. If you'd like fics where it is explicitly stated there are some (FitzSimmons) linked below.
> 
> Currently accepting prompts in the comments or on tumblr (@theclaravoyant).

A cab rolled slowly down New York’s busy streets, stopping and starting with the traffic. Inside it, voices slightly drunk with love and glee and freedom talked and laughed about dinner and the movie they had just seen, and debated their plans for the rest of the evening.

“There’s a comedy show uptown,” Fitz suggested. “Theatre sports, or something. Whose Line is it Anyway type stuff. It looks like fun. Some of those guys are really clever.”

“Or, there’s apparently an orchestra playing in this park…” Jemma mused, rapidly reading through an article on her phone to find more details. 

“ _Or,”_ Daisy suggested, “we could blow both of those things off, call three museums and a movie enough cultural engagement for one day, and go back to the hotel for dessert.”

“You put up a good argument,” Fitz mused, raising an eyebrow and thinking about the fudge sundae he had spied earlier on the room service menu. Jemma, however, seemed to be thinking of a very different kind of dessert. She smiled saucily at Daisy. 

“What _kind_ of dessert?” she asked, her tone leaning on one particular answer.

“Both is good,” Daisy suggested, leaning the same way. “Do you think the hotel sells chocolate sauce by the bottle? A jug, maybe?” 

Jemma snorted. 

“I’m not pouring chocolate sauce on you from a _jug.”_

“Who said you were doing the pouring?” 

Daisy looked at Fitz. Jemma did too. Suddenly, the fudge sundae didn’t feel so appealing. He raised his arms in a plea for amnesty.

“Hey, don’t look at me, I’m not pouring sauce on anyone. You guys go back to the hotel. I’ll meet you later. I think I’m going to check out that show, or something.”

Daisy and Jemma glanced at each other, concerned. 

“I was joking about the sauce,” Daisy amended. “I’m not going to make some poor sucker clean up my sex chocolate. Come on, that’s gross.” 

“We could just have a quiet night in,” Jemma continued, in a quiet tone Fitz knew was meant to appease him. He waved her off. 

“Honestly, I don’t mind,” he insisted. “I just don’t feel like it, that’s all. Have a few hours to yourselves, have fun. We had a great day. Don’t bring it down just for me. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Absolutely. Go on, have fun.” 

The cab driver, after waiting an appropriate number of seconds, checked: 

“Change of plans?”

“Let me out on this corner, please,” Fitz requested. “I’ll take the subway. Their ride’s on me.” 

The driver pulled over, and Fitz passed him some cash as he extricated himself from the car, pecking both Daisy and Jemma on the cheek before he left and disappeared down the subway tunnel. The cab rolled on toward the hotel. 

- 

Jemma and Daisy passed the rest of the trip in near-silence, all of a sudden acutely aware of the personal nature of the conversation they needed to have, and of the distance between here and a personal space. The cab driver, fortunately, kept his nose out of their business, but by the time they got to the hotel, it was clear that any activities in the general vicinity of chocolate sauce were well off the table. They dashed to the elevator, not to start on each other’s coats but rather, to finally get a moment to discuss in private.

“Is it just me, or –“ 

“Has Fitz been weird lately? No, not just you,” Jemma agreed, stuffing her hands into her pockets in an effort to resist the urge to twist her hair and pace. “I should have noticed it earlier. He’s never been much of a sexual person – I think that’s what it is.” 

“You don’t think it’s me?” Daisy wondered, frowning with concern as she followed Jemma down the hall to their room. “I know he’s always been more comfortable with that sort of stuff around you. Maybe I should back off.” 

“No, it’s not just you. Even when we’re alone…” 

“Us too,” Daisy mentioned. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the physical side of things is fine, but… I didn’t want to say it, I thought maybe he was just off his game, but he hasn’t been the most emotionally engaged participant. And you know Fitz. He’s usually King of Emotional Engagement.” 

Jemma sighed, and sunk onto the bed, gazing up at the roof with despair. 

“Do you think he maybe just… doesn’t like sex? Like, as a concept. As an activity. Maybe he just, objectively, doesn’t find it fun.” 

“I don’t understand how that’s possible,” Daisy remarked, snorting a little at the suggestion. “I mean. It’s chemistry, right? Pleasure hormones everywhere. I hate to be all ‘he’s a guy, of course he wants it,’ but like… sure, he’s a gentleman, but a hot one, with fully functioning anatomy, in a relationship with two hot women that he loves and finds attractive and who find him attractive. He can’t lose.”

“He definitely finds us sexy,” Jemma remarked. “And he’s a _great_ kisser. I mean. _God._ But as for the sex, I mean, what if we’re conceptualizing it all wrong? What if it’s like… I don’t know, skydiving. These days it’s pretty safe, you get amazing views, we would be down for it – all the reasons are there, but there’s still no way you could get Fitz to go without a fight. And like you said, he’s a gentleman, and he loves us. Maybe he just does it for us.” 

“Hm.” Daisy sat, pensive. “That doesn’t seem fair.” 

“No, it doesn’t.” 

“But what if we’re wrong?” she wondered. “What if he’s just having an off time? I don’t want to leave him out on the _presumption_ that he’s not enjoying himself.”

“Mm,” Jemma agreed, and sat up. “You know, I think it’s time for a team meeting.”

- 

Sometimes, a “team meeting” was the three of them, a round of beers, and the run-down lounges back on base. Tonight, however – given the opportunities they could seize on this rare weekend of R&R – it was a table with a red cloth and a candle, and three chairs around it, and giant cookies instead of real dessert so that they could wait however long was necessary for Fitz to return. Once they’d set up, Daisy and Jemma dressed down, and spent the rest of the evening chatting and, eventually, snoozing, in a snuggle on the bed, until they heard Fitz’s key in the lock. They pulled themselves to attention, and Fitz stumbled to a halt.

“Sorry,” he said, confused. “Should I have texted you? I promise, I wasn’t mad or anything.” 

“We know,” Jemma assured him, directing him to the table and the cookies to make things a little less confrontational. “That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about. We’ve been noticing some patterns in your behaviour and we just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.” 

“Especially,” Daisy added, “when it comes to sex. You’ve been blowing us off for a while now and we just wanted to check – is something going on? Can we help?” 

“No, it’s nothing.” Fitz shrugged, but the girls did not let the matter drop. His shrug turned into a reluctant hum and he qualified: “It’s nothing in particular.”

“See, I was right,” Jemma said, prodding Daisy. “It’s not you.” 

“You?” Fitz gasped. “Oh, no, Daisy, it’s not you at all! I’ve just never really liked sex.”

“This whole time?” Daisy wondered, incredulous. “And you just went with it?” 

Fitz shrugged. “You guys were having fun!”

“Fitz!” Daisy cried. “That’s _creepy!_ Ugh, I feel gross now. I’m sorry.” She stood up, pacing and fretting with her hands.

“Sit down, Daisy, please? It’s not like that, I promise,” Fitz explained. “It’s more like… if you guys dragged me to a chick flick every weekend. I do enjoy myself, but I enjoy it because you’re enjoying it. The actual act just doesn’t do much for me. Like, at all. You guys seemed to be able to entertain yourselves tonight so I stepped out and did something I found more fun. That’s all.” 

“Good,” Daisy said, and Jemma nodded alongside her. “But why didn’t you just tell us that’s what it was? Nobody expects you to come to a rom-com every week. What have we been doing to make you think we expected you to get in the mood every time we felt like it?” 

Fitz shrugged. 

“I guess that’s on me a bit. I felt… ashamed, sort of. You’re both so brilliant and attractive and I love you so much. Why _wouldn’t_ I want to do it, you know?”

“Fitz,” Jemma scolded, and left her chair to sit on Fitz’s lap side-saddle and wrap her arms around his neck. She kissed him firmly. “How often you want to have sex with Daisy or I is not correlated to how much you love us. We know that. We’re never going to hold it over you, I promise.” 

“Yeah,” Daisy agreed. “I mean, if you’re ever up for it, you say the word and we’ll be there, but don’t feel like you’re depriving us of anything. It’s not like it’s your responsibility to have sex with us. And besides, if nothing else, we can take care of ourselves, right Jem?”

“You know it.” Jemma grinned, and Daisy grinned, and after a few seconds of coaxing, Fitz was smiling too. A sense of relief began to unclench an anxiety that he’d been holding onto for far longer than he’d realised, and his smile became easier, and he kissed Jemma softly and beckoned Daisy closer. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I worried you guys. Thanks for the team meeting. I feel much better now that it’s all out in the open.” 

“Us too,” Daisy agreed. “But I bet I’ll feel even better once I get this monstrosity into me. You know, apparently, these are the chunkiest choc chip cookies in Manhattan.”  
  
“Is that so?” Fitz mused. “We’ll have to see about that.”

He broke a piece off the cookie from his own plate, and fed it to Jemma. She chewed thoughtfully.  
  
“Well?” Daisy asked, 

“Well, we’ll have to taste every choc chip cookie in Manhattan to test this fairly, won’t we?” Jemma pointed out, and reached across the table to snap a piece off Daisy’s cookie. Daisy swiped at her thieving fingers, and missed. 

“That’s cheating!” she yelped. “It’s the same kind!” 

Jemma grinned, her mouth still full and surrounded with crumbs. 

“Sample size, Daisy,” Fitz explained with a surprisingly straight face – that is, until Daisy snatched the rest of his cookie from under his nose, and then he lunged after it, and Jemma shrieked as she was upseated. For a while after that, chaos reigned, as the three of them scrabbled all around the room; battling for each other’s cookies, making and abandoning alliances, playing keep-away. They laughed and tickled and tackled each other until the cookies had disappeared and the candle on their table had burnt out and the three of them had collapsed in a messy, exhausted, joyful heap on the bed, and had fallen asleep that way.


End file.
